


Love At First Sight (sorta)

by themystery424



Series: I'll Love You Even When You Forget My Name [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Getting to know one another, M/M, Part of Series, Soulmate AU, omg I will go down with this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 23:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themystery424/pseuds/themystery424
Summary: The King makes Gaster take a holiday, and the skeleton isn't too happy with his boss. Good thing he doesn't get too much of an opinion on it.His first day there, and he meets the bartender of a local establishment. Though he's just trying to find a way to pass the time, he can't seem to pull himself away.(this is the exposition; first short story in the series :) More to come!)





	1. Arriving At Snowdin

**Author's Note:**

> Italics are either flashbacks or signing. Context should explain which.  
> Gaster talking is always in Wingdings.

It wasn’t so much that Gaster hated fieldwork, it was more Gaster didn’t want to do it himself. Fieldwork was useful in collecting data and calculating risk and cost. It also required the collector of this data to interact with people, ask questions, answer questions, smile and nod and act like you care about their opinion. People skills were a requirement, a requirement that Gaster _could_ have when he wanted to but preferred to not. Honestly, the whole ordeal just tired him out. It was more effective and efficient if someone else collected the data for him.

The king seemed to disagree.

Asgore was concerned for the Royal Scientist’s mental health, being locked away in his lab for days, even weeks at a time. He hardly went out to get fresh air, though in Hotland, it was understandable. Yes, the atmosphere was bearable, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant. So when the opportunity came for Gaster to request someone be sent to Snowdin to check the repercussions of building the cooling mechanism for the Core out there, Asgore shot him down without a second thought.

_“Go to Snowdin yourself, Gaster. Enjoy the cool air, talk with the townspeople, stay at the Inn! Live a little! Oh, this request says that the field applicant wouldn’t be back for two weeks… Sounds like the perfect amount of time for a vacation for my favorite scientist!”_

_“But sir! I have to stay and work on the Core!”_

_“Nonsense, Gaster. Pack your bag. If I see your face around here at all in the next two weeks, you’re fired.”_

_“But sir-!”_

_“No ‘but’s, Gaster. This is a direct order. Go. Enjoy yourself.”_

Gaster heard the snow crunch beneath his feet as he stepped off the ferry. He had one suitcase, which he was holding in his right hand. The River Person behind him sang a little ‘tra la la’ as Gaster walked towards the town. He walked to his right as the king had instructed him to do, past a tiny bar, to the Inn. He walked in, brushing off the snow with a frown. It hadn’t even been snowing. How any had gotten on his torso and arms was a mystery to him. He sighed and walked to the front desk.

“Hello… I am W.D. Gaster, the Royal Scientist? I have a reservation-”

“I’m sorry sir, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” The bunny monster behind the desk said, looking startled and lost. Of course she couldn’t understand him. His font, Wingdings, made it almost impossible for anyone to understand anything he said. With some bitterness, Gaster held up his hands, signing,

 _“Do you speak sign?”_ The bunny nodded, and Gaster started again. _“I’m W.D. Gaster. The Royal Scientist. I was told I’d have a reservation here.”_

“Oh! Of course, yes! King Asgore called ahead this morning.” She leaned down and pulled out a key, placing it in the hand Gaster extended towards her. “Enjoy your stay!”

 _“Thanks.”_ He signed before slowly making his way upstairs to his room. He unlocked the door with trembling hands, frowning at how shaky he was. Maybe he was nervous to be so far away from his lab, from the Core. It didn’t mean he had to show it.

Gaster laid his suitcase down on the bed, opening it and laying out the folders and notes he’d brought along to study. By the light of the one lamp alone, he began to read them over, doing calculations in his head and cross referencing ideas with the charts he’d brought. The cooling mechanism would have to be built soon. The current cooling system, trying to irrigate water from Waterfall, wasn’t working, most of the water evaporating before it reached the Core. Ice, especially the magic rich ice of Snowdin, would be harder to melt and more efficient.

Gaster rubbed his skull with his left hand, looking at the data sheet in his right. It didn’t _really_ have to be filled out. With the reputation he had, if he said it was necessary for the happiness of Monsterkind, people would follow him blindly. Collecting data and feedback had been more out of courtesy for Snowdin residents than out of necessity.

It was too late to back out now. Asgore wouldn’t hear of him abandoning the task, deadset on the scientist getting away for a while. Gaster slid his notes and graphs back into their respective folders before rummaging through his suitcase to find some sweatpants and a loose t-shirt for bed. He laid on the bed, closing his eye sockets as he tried to find rest. It had been so long since he’d laid in a proper bed, usually opting for the much more available couch in the lab’s breakroom. The soft mattress and thick, fluffy blankets felt like he’d wrapped himself up in marshmallows.

Gaster sighed, tossing and turning. It was all unfamiliar. The room smelled of sweet, baked goods wafting up from the shop next door, accompanied by the smell of burning wood coming from the fireplace below; a sharp contrast to his chemical-odor heavy lab. He was out of his element, in a town he’d only passed through once or twice, trying to sleep. It didn’t help that, next door, there seemed to be a trio snoring as loud as they possibly could. Gaster wondered if they were doing it on purpose to spite him. He turned once again, covering his head with one of the pillows, hoping to block out the noise.


	2. Meeting a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make their first impressions.

The fire monster opened his doors at noon everyday. By 12:30, the place would be full, people shuffling about, talking, laughing as they chowed down on their burgers and fries. No one would be drinking, as most of the visitors were part of the Royal Guard enjoying their lunch break with good food, good company and good tunes coming out of the jukebox. Today was no exception to the order of things, Grillby watching his customers from behind the bar as he washed glasses, preparing for the onslaught of drinks he’d be serving later to tired guards and other residents of the Underground looking to have a good time.

Then, without warning from anyone, the daily routine was shattered.

The doors opened, swinging back and hitting the wall with a loud thud, and Grillby felt his eyes narrow. People didn’t just barge into his bar. Most regulars had respect for his property, knowing that the fire monster had built that place from the ground up. Then again, this monster was no regular. This monster was new.

Grillby had heard whispers the night before about a monster coming down from the capital, a fierce, terrifying monster, who was the King’s right hand man. The Royal Scientist, who didn’t need to wield magic to get a point across. The rumors said he could silence a room with a look. And if Grillby hadn’t believed them before, he certainly did now. 

The entire bar had fallen silent when the tall, lanky skeleton entered, dressed in a white turtleneck and black overcoat, with matching black slacks and shoes. His eyes were two, gaping eye sockets, with pinpricks of white in the center. There was one crack running from his left eye down his cheek, and another running from the top of his forehead down to his right eye. His features were stoic as he crossed the floor, the sound of his footsteps being the only noise, echoing off of the walls. Grillby watched him walk down to the end of the bar, sitting on the barstool closest to the shadows, one believed to have bad luck. Grillby walked down the counter to where the newcomer sat.

“What can I get for you?” He asked, his tone flat, hoping it conveyed that, unlike the other monsters in the bar, Grillby wasn’t intimidated by the skeleton. The scientist looked Grillby in the eye, the pinpricks of light flickering for a moment. He didn’t speak, and Grillby was beginning to get impatient.

The scientist brought his porcelain white hands into view, the backs of them completely smooth and glistening.

_ “Do you understand sign?”  _ He signed to Grillby, who gave one nod in response.  _ “Perfect. Coffee, black.”  _ Grillby nodded once again. The bartender turned his back to the skeleton, pouring a mug of steaming hot coffee. He gave it to him, before asking,

“You got a name?” 

The scientist looked at him incredulously. He took a long drink of the still steaming liquid, other customers flinching, imagining the pain they would feel if they dared tried something like that. Finally, he signed, 

_ “Gaster. W.D. Gaster.” _

 

There were privileges to being not only the Royal Scientist, but also a strong monster in general. It meant that when the Royal Guard got to be too annoying, a flick of the wrist sent them flying back away from him in his lab, unharmed, and a memo sent to Asgore meant they lost their favorite positions and favorite hours to work. Gaster hardly ever bothered Asgore, honestly. Being a tall skeleton, dressed in dark colors, with two cracks in his skull, with gravity magic on his side, usually meant that people stayed out of his way.

Gaster was pleasantly surprised to see the small, cozy little bar filled with mostly Royal Guards, and the fear-soaked silence sent a small, satisfied chill up his spine. He stepped purposely, passing each without so much as a glance. He kept his head held high, shoulders back, with his hands behind his back. Each step echoed off the walls as he made his way to the end of the bar, taking a seat in the stool closest to the shadows. He enjoyed the intimidation, only if it meant no one would be bothering him. The bartender watched him, then walked down to talk to him face to face.

When he was asked what he’d like to drink, Gaster’s moment was crushed. The second anyone heard him talk in that bizarre font he was cursed with, the respect, the fear, the dream would be gone. The bartender stared at him, beginning to flicker impatiently, and Gaster had to think of something quickly.

Thankfully, the bartender understood sign, and Gaster maintained his image. It was even better when he was able to show off his nerveless body, drinking hot coffee, straight out of the pot, without so much as a flinch. The bartender was the only one who wasn’t impressed, let alone intimidated. It was more interesting than it was disappointing, though the disappointment was still felt.

Eventually the bar’s atmosphere returned to normal. People started to laugh and joke and talk again, and Gaster didn’t mind. It was part of the charm. He sipped on his coffee, actually enjoying himself. He hadn’t slept well at all, but his rough night had lead into a nice day. Around 1:15, the other customers filed out, leaving Gaster and the bartender alone.

“I didn’t catch your name.” Gaster said aloud, making the bartender drop the glass he was holding in surprise. Luckily it didn’t break, and the flame stooped to pick it up. Then he turned to Gaster.

“Is that your voice?” Gaster’s cheekbones immediately flushed a light violet. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn’t like any other monster. Hell, he wasn’t like a lot of skeletons if the skeletons were still around. He began to sign,

_ “As a skeleton, I speak in a font. Unlike other, understandable fonts, I was born with Wingdings. Sometimes, usually when I’m tired or comfortable, I forget people can’t understand me.”  _ The bartender nodded, and Gaster continued on.  _ “I don’t think I caught your name.” _

“Grillby.” The fire monster replied, finishing up the last glass. “Wingdings… Huh.” Then the two fell into silence, Gaster continuing to drink coffee, gesturing when he wanted a refill. What an interesting day it had turned out to be.


	3. Warming Up To Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster and Grillby finally actually talk to each other and help each other out.

The skeleton, Wingdings Gaster, stayed in his bar all day. They hardly spoke, except when the skeleton ordered a bite to eat or wanted a refill of coffee. And the more Grillby watched him, the more he saw that most of what Gaster did was a facade of some kind. The show of intimidation from noon had been nothing more than just that, a show; probably to keep people off of his back. Grillby could relate to that. 

He stayed through all the usual rushes, eating fries with ketchup and drinking coffee. He was still there when the fire monster would usually begin to close up. After refilling Gaster’s mug, Grillby got to work. He started to scrub the tables down for the final time that evening, working to make sure every inch was clean. A few tables in, and Grillby could feel eyes on him, watching him. He ignored the sensation, scrubbing the tables harder now. The bar stool creaked, and the sound of footsteps once again echoed off the walls. Then they stopped. 

Grillby finally turned around, just in time to see the skeleton putting the chairs up on the tables Grillby had already scrubbed down. He did so wordlessly, focusing intently on his task. Grillby was confused, though went back to scrubbing tables. He wasn’t going to turn down free help. 

And oh, did the skeleton help. He used magic to help dust in places Grillby couldn’t reach, swept and mopped, organized glasses and even offered to help with the dishes. At the dishes offer, Grillby stopped, facing him with crossed arms. Gaster had run up quite a tab that day, and if he thought that the cleaning would compensate for it, he was wrong. Without replying, Grillby printed a copy of his bill and handed it to him. Gaster looked slightly alarmed. He tooked the bill into his pocket.

_ “I had completely forgotten. My apologies.”  _ Grillby nodded, watching him fish in his overcoat pockets for a wallet. He paid up in full, with a generous tip, Grillby noticed. He placed the money in the register.  _ “The dishes?”  _ Gaster repeated when he had Grillby’s attention. Grillby hesitated, before nodding. The fire monster honestly hated the chore, finding that his hands took longer and longer to recover from the damage done by the water each time he did it. Gaster seemed almost excited, hurrying to the back to get started. Grillby followed, confused and curious. As the sink filled, Gaster noticed him spectating.

_ “I like to keep busy.”  _ He signed. Grillby nodded. 

“I noticed. Don’t you have… science work, that needs done?” Gaster shook his head, scrubbing at a dish. “Then, why are you here in Snowdin?” Gaster rinsed the dish before signing his answer.

_ “I need to collect public opinion about the building of a cooling mechanism for the Core. It would harvest the ice and send it downstream. Do you think any around here would have a problem with that?”  _ Grillby rolled the thought around his head for a while before he shook his head. Gaster chuckled, a sound similar to the weird language he spoke in; the sound reminded Grillby of what glass shards felt like, if that sensation could be a noise.  _ “I wish your input was all I needed. Then I could go back to the Core and do real work.” _

“Grunt work isn’t real work?” The fire monster asked, offended by such an implication. 

_ “It is, just not  _ my _ forte. I am much more productive in the lab.”  _ Grillby didn’t deny it. He felt the effects of the Core everyday, it powering all electronics in the Underground, and it functioned as a broadcaster, the signal able to be heard in the Ruins. For the first time since the skeleton walked into his bar, Grillby was impressed. The monster had accomplished a lot since they had all been trapped underground. Cell signal had been the latest innovation, again the signal originating at the Core. The more Grillby thought, he remembered a few rumors he’d heard earlier that week.

“Is it true that you and your team in Hotland are working on a, uh,” Grillby paused, trying to find the words, the scientist turning his head some to show he was listening. “A connected source of intelligence? That anyone can access?” Gaster smiled and completely turned around, beginning to sign so fast with his hands, Grillby could hardly keep up.

_ “Yes in fact it is! But it’s not just for information, it’s for everything! It’s a whole new kind of communicating, a type the Underground has never seen before! It will be revolutionizing when it’s finally finished.”  _ Gaster quickly began to talk about other purposes, and how he intended on using the cell signal as the groundwork, and so on.

Grillby hung on every word, fascinated though he understood very little. He watched Gaster in interest, impressed by his enthusiasm. The dishes were soon forgotten, and Grillby couldn’t say he was too angry about it.


	4. A Sleepover and an Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby invites Gaster to stay at his house, so he can get some real sleep. The skeleton has an idea, though inquiring about it may not be the best way to do it.

Gaster had been talking about upcoming Core projects for thirty minutes before he realized he’d been rambling. And when he realized, his cheekbones flushed dark violet. He couldn’t believe that the bartender hadn’t stopped him sooner. Gaster stopped signing, placing his hands in his lap for a while. Grillby tilted his head, confused. Gaster paused, before signing, _“How long have you been a bartender?”_

“Around five years. I built this place myself.” Grillby boasted Gaster smiled, hearing the pride in Grillby’s voice. “It was a shack at first, built with whatever I could rummage from the wreckage of the…” He didn’t finish, and he didn’t have to. Talking about the war was always a touchy subject, especially since they weren’t even a decade away from it yet. The two of them sat in silence, and Gaster let out a long yawn. It was getting late, but he didn’t want to return to the Inn. He didn’t think he’d get a wink of sleep. His eye sockets were now half-closed, though he hoped the fire monster didn’t take notice.

“Are you tired?” Grillby asked, making Gaster frown.

“No.” Gaster said. Grillby stared at him, and Gaster held his gaze. It took a moment to realize he’d spoken in Wingdings. Before he could sign, Grillby replied,

“I think you’re tired. Even though I think you’re denying it. Where are you staying?”

 _“The Inn down the street.”_ A low chuckle escaped Grillby, a crackling sounding from deep in his core. The sound was warm and familiar, making Gaster’s soul flutter. Wait, what..?

Gaster got wrapped in his own thoughts as he tried to understand what had happened to him. His soul had _reacted_ , and he’d felt it. Gaster tried to find possibilities. The sound of crackling… could take him back to the days of star gazing, gathered around a fire with friends as he pointed out different constellations and planets. The thought made his soul flutter again. Yes, that had been it. Associations. He tried to ignore how different the flutters felt, and what it could mean.

“Gaster?” The skeleton snapped to attention at the sound of his name. “So?”

 _“Ah, sorry. I trailed off. What did you say?”_ Grillby didn’t seem pleased to repeat himself, and Gaster blushed, embarrassed.

“I have a couch. If you need a decent night’s sleep, my couch is your couch.” Gaster was stunned by the invitation.

 _“I would appreciate it, thank you.”_ He finally signed. Grillby nodded and got to his feet, the scientist in tow as he locked the place up and shut the power down. Just across the street was a tiny house, to which Grillby unlocked the door. It was clean, with a fireplace across from the couch. Gaster sat down on the couch, and then quickly laid down. The couch was comfortable, _so_ comfortable... Gaster was out like a light.

 

Grillby was lighting the fireplace, thinking about the skeleton on his couch. He was nice, passionate, once you got through that cold shell. When they had been talking, his soul had been fluttering inside of him. It was a strange sensation, though not unpleasant. He turned to face Gaster, the fire now going.

“I’ll be back with a blanket and-” The skeleton was already asleep, and Grillby smiled. He did get a blanket, and gently propped his head up on a pillow. He paused, looking at the skeleton’s hand hanging off the couch.

It was beautiful. Smooth, sleek, a shining bright white. It was gorgeous. Grillby’s flame around his cheeks turned blue as he thought about how nice it’d be to hold his hand. Quickly he dashed off the bed before he could make himself feel anymore foolish than he already did. He’d only known the skeleton for a day. These kinds of reactions were uncalled for. Grillby slipped into bed, tossing and turning as he tried to get to sleep.

The fire monster jolted awake by a loud shout. It was morning, nine, according to his clock. There was incoherence coming from his living room, though it sounded remotely like a conversation. It was sharper, more unnerving. Then the pieces fell into place. Gaster was on the phone, talking.

Grillby made his way downstairs slowly, wearing his robe. He paused in the doorway, listening to the strange language Gaster spoke. He was trying to decipher it, maybe understand a word or two here and there.

The skeleton snapped the phone close with a huff. He sighed, ran his hand over his face, and slowly turned around. Startled, he took a few steps back. Grillby stood up a little straighter, having been leaning on the wall. The two monsters stared at each other for a long moment, before Grillby cleared his throat.

“Breakfast?” He asked.

 _“Please.”_ Came the immediate response. Grillby walked passed him, trying to keep it together. The moment Gaster couldn’t see him, his face flushed blue sparks. He kept his head down as he cooked, hoping Gaster wouldn’t follow him in.

 

Gaster had woken up at 8 in the morning, feeling more refreshed than he had in ages. He was still feeling bogged down, and he knew why. The flutter of his soul. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. It couldn’t have been associations alone. He got on his phone, calling the lab back in Hotland. It took several rings, but they did pick up.

“Gaster, we’re under orders not to-”

“This has nothing to do with work. I need some research done for an independent project I’m working on. Something I’m doing leisurely, with a partner.” Gaster waited, his words being translated through a machine of his own making on the other end.

Finally, the response came, “I’m connecting you to Asgore.” The skeleton groaned, but waited.

“Howdy Gaster.” The king sounded chipper. “Enjoying your vacation?”

“King Asgore… I need some research done.” He said. “Something about monster souls.”

“Gaster you’re on a break. No research.”

“Please? It’s important!” Gaster hated waiting for the translator. It took forever. Eventually the king did reply to his plea.

“What’s the subject of the research, then I shall decide.” Gaster sighed. He didn’t want to say it, not to the king. Already the idea was seeming foolish, but it was too late to back out now.

“... Soulmates.” He muttered. A delay, as the machine translated. Then laughter. Gaster felt his cheekbones flush violently with violet, and he tried to hide his face behind his hand.

“Oh Gaster! You’ve only been there a day, and you think you have found your soulmate? That’s incredible!” Gaster’s cheeks only flushed more, and he swore his whole face must’ve been purple at that point.

“So it is possible, then?” He murmured. “I thought it was a myth.”

“It’s true, yes.” Asgore sounded pleased. “Some monsters’ souls are simply meant to be.”

“What’s the science behind it?” Gaster asked. “Is there a correlation of some kind, or perhaps a causation?”

“Gaster, it’s not a science. It’s something you feel in your soul. It can’t be explained. Don’t fight it, alright?” Gaster didn’t speak for a while, glaring at the floor. “... What’s their name?” Asgore finally asked.

“Grillby.” The skeleton mumbled in reply.

“Oh the bartender! Yes, Gaster, he’s a nice fellow! Quiet, but he can be sociable when he wants. Oh you two will be happy together.”

“King Asgore! I don’t even know if we _are_ soulmates! I could be in a state of infatuation, especially considering, like you’ve pointed out, I hardly leave my lab! Hardly able to see anyone there, this could just be a reaction to the under stimulation I've gone through these last few months, to a year!” Asgore laughed.

“Don’t fight it too hard. Trust me, it’s inevitable.” The king sounded distant, like he was smiling, and Gaster sighed, wondering if he was thinking about his wife.

“Alright your majesty. I’ll let you go.”

“Goodbye, Gaster.” Gaster hung up, huffing as he did. He ran his hand over his skull before turning around. Grillby was there, making him stumble back a step or two before freezing in place.

Grillby was leaning against the wall, though quickly straightened himself out. If Gaster wasn’t so stunned, he would have blushed. The bartender cleared his throat, before asking if he wanted breakfast. Gaster agreed as quickly as he could, thankful that Grillby then hurried to the kitchen. The next two weeks, Gaster decided, were going to be long.


End file.
